Kritanta (IN EDITING) -ON HOLD-
by Esyluim Happiness
Summary: For a long while, the world was at peace. Still, lies were sprouted and rumors flooded the streets. Love was diminished by these rumors. Hate spread. Was there really any peace? Who was the villain? Who was the hero? (IN EDITING) (ON HOLD)
1. IDEAS AN

p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"I need ideas! I'm also editing the other chapters. So, the chapters might be a mess. Ask any questions you want about the story./p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"This is a Cedric/Harry story!/p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"NAME FOR CEDRIC?/p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"I'm only going to add like two oc's, maybe three if twins. Make the description as detailed as possible and not a mary/gary sue/p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"THE OCS CAN BE ENEMIES OR ALLIES./p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"THEY CAN PAIR WITH ANYONE NOT PAIRED YET./p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"ANY MORE QUESTIONS TO ADD HERE?/p 


	2. AND THIS IS WHERE OUR STORY BEGINS

_**(INSPIRED BY DARK REPRUCSSIONS AND THE RISE OF A DARK ANGEL)**_

 _ **(IN NEED OF BETA)**_

 _ **(WORD COUNT: 1041)**_

He was weird, in every definition of the word. He was strange, in every sense. He was powerful, cruel, ruthless. He was all these things, though that changed at July 31st of 1991. The day he turned eleven. He learned what people expect from the great Harry Potter. He learned to be brash, heading straight into danger. He learned to hide his Slytherin cruelty and cunning. Never once has his mask slipped. Never once has his eyes turned to its haunting green color. Never once has bloodlust seeped into his eyes again. Yet, at his relatives that all changes. His personality turned a whole 180. He enjoyed the torture of his relatives. He enjoyed the screams they make, the pleads and begs to make it stop. This was what he was like without his mask.

He was different and that was all it took for his relatives to shun him. He was a freak, a person who differs from those around them. That is exactly what he is. A freak that enjoys the pain of others. A sadist. When did this all start? When did he become so evil? So ruthless? So powerful? So cruel?

It all started when he was eight...

When he was tortured beyond belief...

* * *

You would think a celebrity like Harry Potter would know of his status. His influence as Lord Potter. That he would live a life where everything is handed to him. Where he doesn't have to ask for anything, because he already has everything. Every new product is given to him without a movement. He gets a bunch of presents from his fans. Never does any chores. He was their precious Boy-Who-Lived and the wizarding world made their best effort to spoil him beyond belief.

THIS IS ALL WRONG

He never knew who his parents were. Never knew of the Wizarding World. Never knew of the Boy-who-Lived. Just that he was different. That he was strange. That he could do these Weird Things. Things like making his teachers hair turn blue. Teleporting to the school roof. Never has he given any type of present. Never got his own presents. Not even his own room. Just a cupboard under the stairs. He does all the chores. Even the ones impossible for his age. Like cooking. Even if he's too short to look over the stove. The only thing he knows of is that everyone hates him. Everyone avoids him. The only ones who even think of touching him are his relatives and that is only because they want to show their hate for him.

* * *

A CUPBOARD UNDER THE STAIRS a child sat, bending over with tears going down his face. A child that grew up too quickly. A child that seems to fall down with pain every afternoon. Crying every morning, every night. He can't sleep without any nightmares. Tears, tears, so many tears that seem to flood his cupboard. On the dirty mattress that seems to barely fit, he sat with blood seeping through his wounds. With his hand-me-down clothes that are red from the blood. Eyes closed, trying to think of something else instead of the pain.

Oh, the pain, the pain that seems to never stop. The pain that happens every minute, every hour, every day, every week, every month, every year. Pain after pain, tears after tears. It's like a prison, he's like a slave in this godforsaken world. His seemingly innocent facade he has at school disappears (when he actually goes, which is not that much) when he's at home. Where he's emotionless, maskless. Where his true feelings of the world appear on his face.

That day when he turned eight, a new monster sprouted. One that seems to kill for fun, showering with blood. His eyes glint with insanity. His smile turned into a smirk, one full of bloodlust. Green eyes turn haunting, eyes that seem to be imprinted into your mind. His eyes turn black with malice and his hair grew past his shoulders. This all happened because of one thing. A thing that caused so much pain and destruction. Abuse causes the worst villains. Abuse cause the best worshippers. The latter one is what the twinkling-eyed old man wanted, but he got the former. He got the worst villain, one that seems to match the dark lord. The one equal to the dark lord.

The old man caused the destruction of the world as we know it, he caused the beginning of a new world. A world that seems better than the past world. A world where people practice all magic. After all, "There is no good and evil, there is only power…and those too weak to seek it." (Philosopher's Stone - Chapter Seventeen) The old man will not like the world as it is now. For, he only likes one kind of magic. Light magic.

Now, let's not talk about a dead man, we are here to tell the story of Harry Potter. Harry is a child, a weird child. Harry loves blood. Blood of any kind, even his own. He's like a vampire in that aspect. Bloodshed is his goal; becoming an assassin. Bloodshed that makes the most brutal murders seem like a baby's work. Just to make it clear, he hasn't snapped, yet. That all changed one day when the abuse became too much. Where his uncle raped his small eight-year-old self. That is when he did his first torture. One that lasted years.

Harry Potter controlled his relatives every movement. He made them torture themselves. That is when he discovered his Strange Thing. When he learned to control it. He still kept his mask on outside, but it was easier to do. For, he had something to satisfy his anger. Torture is a great way to get relief and feel great. Soon, he turned eleven. That is when he learned what people expected of him. When he learned to make another mask. The fourth year is starting for him and meeting his godfather and uncle is why he is going to shed his mask. Making a name out of himself with his sick tortures. Making a secret identity. The fourth year is starting, and he can't wait.

AND THIS IS WHERE OUR STORY BEGINS


	3. KRITANTA IS HERE

CHAPTER 1

The chess board is empty, for peace is here. Yet, when war comes, the pawns line up front. They sacrifice themselves for the Greater Good. Rooks go to the sides, two each. Each one was straightforward and blunt, blunging through their enemies. Right next to the rooks the knights are set. They are the ones who ride into battle, going over obstacles with strength. Bishops think outside the box next to the king and queen, leading them to not be easy to manipulate. When you manipulate them, they can be great assets. Finally, the King takes his place in the back with the queen, manipulating all.  
The chessboard is set. Enemies clash and allies converse. Water washes away fire and exhaustion sets in. Blood spills all over the battlefield. Finally, bodies pile upon bodies. The master manipulators have started the battle.

AND THE WAR BEGINS

The sky clears as the minute's count by. The lake ripples from rocks getting thrown in. A tree sat on the side of a manor, waving in the wind. This manor was tall with a castle-like structure. Laughter echoed in the air. A young man sat on the shadow of the tree with another man. Smiles went onto two men's faces while they talk. One man has haunting green eyes with raven black hair that seems messy. The other has silver eyes with brown hair that bounces.  
"...And then he cried for help! Like anyone is going to hear him." The green-eyed one yelled with laughter and insanity. The silver-eyed one laughed with the insane man. His brown hair bouncing with joy. "It seemed like an interesting assassination." The silver-eyed man said, his voice strong with laughter. "Soon, our names will be known around the world." The green-eyed one said having a smile on his face.  
The two men talked all day and night, making conversations about murder. Planning the deaths of annoying classmates and fake friends. A death of a twinkling-eyed headmaster. Haunting eyes shined with dark promises. The sky turned dark and the day turned to night.  
Finally, they brought out a small trinket - a time turner. Turning back in time to the last day; August 31st. They are going to school, and they won't expect what hit them.

The puppet has become the puppeteer; the marionette.

AND THE PAWN BECOMES THE KING

(NEXT DAY; SEPTEMBER 1st 1994)

The train ride was long and rigorous. Fake friends interrupted their compartment, asking for a Harry Potter and a Cedric Diggory. Those 'friends' had the nerve to shut the door in their faces. Only if they knew the two people in that compartment were the two men they were looking for.  
Carriages stopped up to them with invisible horses. (Only seen by those who have seen death). One of these carriages holds only two people, the same men that were on the train ride. They stop in front of a castle, big and old-fashioned. A crowd of students escaped the carriages and the doors of the castle opened. The opening feast has begun.

The fourth year was starting soon, the green-eyed one thought. His hands grasping the wooden table and his legs bouncing up and down, hair was messy, yet seems short. Eyes sprout with anticipation as he waits for the year to begin. The doors banged upon and a huge man came up followed by tiny first years. A jolly smile was on the man's mans face, showing his happiness.  
An old teacher - Minerva McGonagall, placed a hat on a stool. A mouth opens up from the hat, showing it's a sentient being. A song sang out of the hat:

 _"A thousand years or more ago_ _  
_ _When I was newly sewn,_ _  
_ _There lived four wizards of renown,_ _  
_ _Whose names are still well known:_ _  
_ _  
_ _  
_ _"Bold Gryffindor, from wild moor,_ _  
_ _Fair Ravenclaw, from glen,_ _  
_ _Sweet Hufflepuff, from valley broad,_ _  
_ _Shrewd Slytherin, from fen._ _  
_ _  
_ _  
_ _"They shared a wish, a hope, a dream,_ _  
_ _They hatched a daring plan_ _  
_ _To educate young sorcerers_ _  
_ _Thus Hogwarts School began._ _  
_ _  
_ _  
_ _"Now each of these four founders_ _  
_ _Formed their own house, for each_ _  
_ _Did value different virtues_ _  
_ _In the ones they had to teach._ _  
_ _  
_ _  
_ _"By Gryffindor, the bravest were_ _  
_ _Prized far beyond the rest;_ _  
_ _For Ravenclaw, the cleverest_ _  
_ _Would always be the best;_ _  
_ _  
_ _  
_ _"For Hufflepuff, hard workers were_ _  
_ _Most worthy of admission;_ _  
_ _And power-hungry Slytherin_ _  
_ _Loved those of great ambition._ _  
_ _  
_ _  
_ _"While still alive they did divide_ _  
_ _Their favorites from the throng,_ _  
_ _Yet how to pick the worthy ones_ _  
_ _When they were dead and gone?_ _  
_ _  
_ _  
_ _"Twas Gryffindor who found the way,_ _  
_ _He whipped me off his head_ _  
_ _The founders put some brains in me_ _  
_ _So I could choose instead!_ _  
_ _  
_ _  
_ _"Now slip me snug about your ears,_ _  
_ _I've never yet been wrong,_ _  
_ _I'll have a look inside your mind_ _  
_ _And tell where you belong!"_ _  
_

Cheers rang out of the little mouths of the hall. Teachers old and new clapped politely. The ickle tiny first years took a sigh of relief that they aren't fighting a troll or something. Happiness shined on the student's faces. Names are called out and one by one those tiny first years came up and got sorted into their house.  
He looked at the audience, taking in the information of the small first years. The students are important, they are the future of their world. One ear was looking out for interesting conversations. His other ear was listening to the welcome speech that Dumbledore was spouting out. "...Triwizard Tournament…" Dumbledore said, and his interest was suddenly caught.  
The Triwizard Tournament is where three students from three different schools are chosen for a deadly competition. That's why it's called the Triwizard tournament; it has three students from three schools. Many have died from this competition, so the tasks are insanely hard. It hasn't been started for three hundred years. They stopped it because of the death count.  
His hand twisted his wand around, with his deadly green eyes looking back and forth. Raven black hair went onto his face making him blow it out of the way. A hidden smirk went onto his face, silent and insane. The other Gryffindors looked at him with curiosity and awe and he inwardly groaned.  
As quickly as the sorting went, the second years and up went to their dorms. Their beds have been washed and clean during the summer. Soon, they went to sleep, but the mysterious boy with haunting green eyes laid still with open eyes. "Tempus." The boy said and the time popped up. It's time. The green-eyed boy created a golem and disappeared in a flash of water.

If people were awake, they would wonder where two boys were. A silver-eyed brown haired seventeen-year-old and a green-eyed black-haired fourteen-year-old. Yet, they would also wonder why they were out past curfew when murders are starting from a mysterious assassin.  
A night ago, a very dark night. Screams shouted from a lonely house. A cackle escaped his mouth, insanity clear in his emerald eyes, so green, so much like the killing curse. Raven black hair dyed red with blood covered his insane face. Another man walked up with a look of joy in his silver eyes.  
This is the home of Elphias Doge, one of the members of the Order of the Phoenix. The enemy, or the enemy of these insane men, men that have seen too much. The green-eyed one's knife cut off finger by finger, making Doge slowly bleed out. Silver eyes looked at the hair curiously and piece by piece, took it all off. Nails are taken off, leaving blood to seep out of where the nails once were. The green-eyed one grabbed his wand and shouted, "Incendio." All that was left was a charred body with blood pouring out of it.  
The torture session lasted hours and yet, nobody came to help. Doge was killed and nobody caught the killer. The only thing left was a message. A message with a name. Yet, the silver-eyed man did not write this message, because he does not want to be known. The green-eyed one did and he loved to give a scare.

AND WHAT DID THIS MESSAGE SAY?

KRITANTA IS COMING

FOR THE GOD OF DEATH IS HERE TO SERVE JUSTICE

And below this message was another.

ORDER OF THE PHOENIX

YOU HAVE MARKED A VERY DANGEROUS ENEMY


	4. PITY THOSE POOR SOULS

Hart laughed at Sirius, his childlike look misleading others. His hair was long, brushing against his back. Eyes glowed in the dark as he looked at his father figure.

 _Why was it so dark?_

"Come on! Everyone wants pink hair these days!" He chuckled, his smile big and friendly. "I don't look good in pink." Sirius pouted, looking at the mirror. This seems so much like a normal family. Yet, they hide a deadly secret.

 _What secret?_

Sirius' childlike nature in front of a dangerous mask. Hart's innocent look, leading others suspicions to another person.  
 _Why so many masks?_

Masks, why are masks so scary? Is it because you can become who you fake? Is it because they hide away your true self, making you a dangerous enemy? Do they make your life harder than it usually is? Does it scare your victims until they're insane?

 _Does it?_ A chuckle escapes.

WHO WEARS A MASK?

Everyone who has a secret.

WHO MAKES A MASK?

The one who caused their secret.

Secrets, who has a secret? The one who hides behind the shadows. The one who manipulates those around them. Those ones who act normal. Some secrets are scarier than others. One can make another die, another can make one disturbed.

 _Who is The One?_

WHICH SECRET IS MOST DANGEROUS?

The one that changes our lives forever.

WHO MAKES A SECRET?

The one who caused their abuse

This abuse

This abuse

This abuse.

His mask disappeared as quickly as it appeared back on. The glamour fell in shock, but he placed it back in time for only one other person to see. A girl with a dreamy look and silky blond hair. Glasses with weird decorations and a book against her robe.

 _This isn't true_. _Maybe he misheard?_ He said to himself while he looked at the hall. Whispers walked through the Great Hall. _Who else has the name Harry Potter?_ Another part of himself said. His hand glided over the wooden table in a nervous fashion, hoping to what every god there is for it not to be true. The fingers tapped, tapped, and kept tapping.

Once again Dumbledore opened his mouth and the hall fell in silence. _Is it true? Is there a fourth champion?_ They all thought.

"Harry Potter!" Dumbledore yelled again, and again his mask slipped for a second. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled merrily, well it looked dimmed to those who aren't looking closely. _This must of been part of his plan._ Hart thought, his hand pushing down and he stood up. Gracefully, he went to the front of the hall and stared down at all the students. His eyes glared at those who whispered, making the impression of them being the scum beneath his feet. _Aren't they such annoying bugs?_ A whisper went into his mind.

He moved towards the door where the other champions are. His raven black hair was short - cut down because of glamours. The door opened for him and all the champions looked up at him. "What is it?" Fleur said. "Do they want us back in the Hall?" Hart looked disgusted for a second but went back to his impassive state.

"No," He shakes his head, not really knowing how to state it, "I was chosen for the fourth champion." All he got in return was shocked looks and disbelief. Fleur Delacour's long silvery hair bounced in shock. Viktor Krum's hunched-up shoulders slumped in horror. Cedric Diggory's hands - that used to be behind his back - covered his eyes in shame.

 **There was a sound of scurrying feet behind him, and Ludo Bagman entered the room. He took** Hart **by the arm and led him forward.** _Let go you horrible ant!_ Hart thought but he knew better than to say it out loud. _I am not something to be pushed around!_ **  
"Extraordinary!"** Ludo **muttered, squeezing** Hart's **arm. "Absolutely extraordinary! Gentlemen. . . lady," he added, approaching the fireside and addressing the other three. "May I introduce - incredible though it may seem - the fourth Triwizard champion?" (Chapter 17 of Goblet of Fire)**

"So it's true? We really have a fourth champion." Cedric looked at Hart, ashamed at what he just realized. "I apologize - on my behalf - whatever the schools will do to you." Cedric couldn't help but apologize, something about Hart just drew him in. His long ( _wait long?_ Cedric thought) hair and that glowing ( _am I seeing things?_ ) killing curse eye. _I think I have a crush,_ was banged into Cedric's head.

Cedric's dark brown hair moved slightly from his shock from this revelation. Grey eyes widen with that thought. _Why do I feel like a hormonal teenager again?_ He thought.

Hart looked at Cedric, taking in every detail. His brown hair seemed to move and grey eyes seem to widen. When Cedric noticed Hart looking at him, he blushed slightly. _What are the thoughts that run through your head?_ Hart thought.

Your head

Your head

Your head

His hood fell off, showing his true face. One black eye and another glowing green eye. Hair long with black strands that feels like silk. A crazed smile stretched into his face as he stood over the body. Wand in hand, he casts curse after curse, torturing this poor soul.

Pity this poor soul

Pity this poor soul

Pity this poor soul

With a hand covered in blood, he wrote a message with his partner in crime. A message truly terrifying that it causes shivers to go down their spines. Hood back on, he looked away from the message, looking at his partner with a nod. The job was done, and boy did they have fun.

Oh, the screams, those lovely screams that just want to make him dance. The look on his face is truly insane. When he rules the world he is going to enjoy torturing those that break his laws. For, he was really terrifying when he wants to be. With his mismatched eyes and his long flowing hair. That innocent look that seems to not belong on that face. _How did they create such a dangerous creature?_

Dangerous creature

Dangerous creature

Dangerous creature


	5. WAND

His partner appeared in a flash of fire while he came in a wave of water. The hood fell off their faces, showing off their features. One has long silky black hair with mismatched eyes and the other has short dark brown hair with grey eyes.

In front of this weird pair, an alley stood. An alley that seems shady, filled with people who hide their identities. Hoods were everywhere, masks hide their emotions. Shops lined the walls, selling multiple things. This is Knockturn Alley, a shopping district that sells illegal things. Dark things.

The partners looked around, trying to find anything worth looking at. 'Shop for Custom-made Wands! Only fifty gallons a piece!' A sign read. People crowd the sign, wanting a traceless wand for themselves. The partners look at each other and nod. They want one for themselves; they have plenty of money.

Putting their hoods up, they walked into the shop with a menacing smile. They pushed in front of the crowd of people while wandlessly freezing them in their places. Eyes followed their every movement, wondering how they learned wandless magic.

The pair leaned to the front of the store, looking at all the materials for wands. A man with short black hair and a black beard sat on a chair. He looked interested in them, wondering how strong they are. Twirling his wand, he walked up to the storefront. "Hello, Welcome to the Ollivander store in Knockturn Alley. Come on in." The man said with a jolly smile. The door opened for the pair and they walked in.

Shelves full of materials for wands greeted them. "Are you, by chance, related to Garrick Ollivander?" The one with mismatched eyes asked, a voice full of silk. "Yes, I am his son, Eliphas Ollivander. I specialize in custom-made wands." The man - Eliphas - answered. "Now, just close your eyes and focus on your soul. Wave your hand and your materials will come to you. If you are good at Occlumency, this would be easier."

The first to close their eyes was the one with mismatched eyes. He was excellent in Occlumency and was quick to find his soul. With a wave of his hand, four materials stopped in front of him. "Oh! You're going to need a staff." Eliphas said with mirth and gathered the wood and cores up.

"What kind of cores and woods do I have?" The one with mismatched eyes asked. Eliphas hummed, his beard flouncing around. "Well, Mr. Potter, You have Phoenix feather for your first core. **This is the rarest core type. Phoenix feathers are capable of the greatest range of magic, though they may take longer than either unicorn or dragon cores to reveal this. They show the most initiative, sometimes acting of their own accord, a quality that many witches and wizards dislike.  
** " **Phoenix feather wands are always the pickiest when it comes to potential owners, for the creature from which they are taken is one of the most independent and detached in the world. These wands are the hardest to tame and to personalize, and their allegiance is usually hard won. (From** **wiki/Wand_Cores** **)"** He breathed and then pointed to the next core.

"The second core is Dragon Heartstring. **As a rule, dragon heartstrings produce wands with the most power, and which are capable of the most flamboyant spells. Dragon wands tend to learn more quickly than other types. While they can change allegiance if won from their original master, they always bond strongly with the current owner.  
** " **The dragon wand tends to be easiest to turn to the Dark Arts, though it will not incline that way of its own accord. It is also the most prone of the three cores to accidents, being somewhat temperamental. (From** **wiki/Wand_Cores** **)"** He pointed to the final core.

"Thestral Hair is only used for those who master Death. This is only used in one other wand, The Elder Wand from The Tale of The Three Brothers. Worry not for going against the Elder Wand, for this is a staff, and they are very different than a wand." He said and he pointed to the wood.

" **Yew wands are among the rarer kinds, and their ideal matches are likewise unusual, and occasionally notorious. The wand of yew is reputed to endow its possessor with the power of life and death, which might, of course, be said of all wands; and yet yew retains a particularly dark and fearsome reputation in the spheres of duelling and all curses. However, it is untrue to say (as those unlearned in wandlore often do) that those who use yew wands are more likely to be attracted to the Dark Arts than another. The witch or wizard best suited to a yew wand might equally prove a fierce protector of others. Wands hewn from these most long-lived trees have been found in the possession of heroes quite as often as of villains. Where wizards have been buried with wands of yew, the wand generally sprouts into a tree guarding the dead owner's grave. What is certain, in my experience, is that the yew wand never chooses either a mediocre or a timid owner. (From** **writing-by-jk-rowling/wand-woods** **)** " Eliphas said, his explanation long and thoughtful.

The one with grey eyes closed his eyes and brought out the same materials. Phoenix Feathers, Dragon heartstring, Therstal Hair, and Yew. "This is highly unusual. There have never been two staffs at the same time, well there has been four. Neither do they have the same materials." Eliphas said. "You two, Mr. Potter and Mr. Diggory, are going to have great, maybe terrible, but great destinies."

"What is the difference between a wand and a staff?" Diggory asked, his curiosity outshining his awe.

"A staff is used for those who have great destinies, the last one, or four, was used by the founders of Hogwarts. The ones who changed the Wizarding World. A staff also is used by those who have more than three wand materials. Also for those who have a great amount of power." Eliphas leaned in and whispered, "Hopefully, you can save Magic. For, Magic is dying and she needs help."

The pair looked shocked at this declaration. Magic swirled around them and two staffs were made in front of them. All three looked down in shock. "It looks like Magic favors you." A laugh cleared escaped Eliphas' throat.

Magic looks down at all those they gave magic too. Their corruption was too great. Manipulation was too strong. Even them is corrupted by the need to kill to set the course straight again. Destiny was wrong for once, the magical world is too corrupt. Yet, when they received a thank you, one that happens to be the one that was manipulated a great value. They couldn't say no and blessed the childe with magic, magic so strong he can save the world from the corruption. They have blessed many children with magic, yet this one is willing to kill. That, is the only way to save the world from themselves.

This childe can change the world, but also save those who have been severed from reality. This childe will become the new god of Death, and save those whose time is not up yet.

THIS CHILDE WILL BE MAGIC'S CHOSEN

THIS WILL BE MAGIC'S CHILDE

FINALLY,

MAGIC WILL BE SAVED

And Magic will guide the way.

Even to kill, even to rape, even to torture

Magic will guide him

Guiding him to his victims.

MAGIC WILL BE SAVED


End file.
